


The Best Holiday

by Green_Arrows_of_Karamel (Mare9548)



Series: Birthday presents for dearies [6]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Green Arrow (Arrow TV 2012), Athletic!Oliver, F/M, Fic that should've been a one-shot but became a monster, Fluff, Holidays, Sharing a Bed, Snowed In, should have posted a month ago but life happened, spending the holidays in Aspen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:18:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22200871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mare9548/pseuds/Green_Arrows_of_Karamel
Summary: Felicity Smoak goes to Aspen for the holidays with her family but she's not thrilled about it. When she meets gold-medal winner Oliver Queen her opinion about the vacation changes drastically. She never expects that what she thought would be a lousy time becomes the best holiday of her life.
Relationships: Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak
Series: Birthday presents for dearies [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/602653
Comments: 31
Kudos: 95
Collections: Olicity Sport, The Oliver/Felicity Fanfiction Archive





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hope-for-olicity (Jacq)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacq/gifts).

> This should've been posted like a month ago but real life happens and all that, so I hope you don't mind reading a holiday fic after the holidays.
> 
> Enjoy the reading!

Sprawled face up on the snow, Felicity sighs as she looks at the overcast sky. The clouds of a dirty white indicate that a storm is coming up. She groans, thinking how much colder it will get.

She ponders what devil had possessed her to go along with her mother and stepfather's idea to spend the holidays in Aspen; two weeks of snow, cold, and exaggerated cheerful holiday spirit. She has nothing much to do here when she hates the cold and she's clumsier than a bull in a china shop. Skiing is not really an option for her. 

That's something that every trainer that in the last few days has tried, and failed, to teach her would agree on. Definitely, Oliver —the latest in that list of instructors— knows it by now. To his credit, the guy hasn't deserted her... yet.

Her stepfather, Quentin, gifted her these private classes; she didn't have the heart to turn his gift down, so here she is, falling on her butt every five minutes. 

She hears the crushing sound of the instructor's approaching steps. Oliver pauses and looks down at her. "Are you okay, miss Smoak?" His face is unreadable but his blue eyes are glinting with mirth.

"If you mean physically, yes, I'm fine," she huffs, struggling to sit up and unhooking her feet from the skis, "but I don't know how much longer my ego can take the humiliation of my poor motor skills. And I told you to call me Felicity."

"I'll do that if you give yourself some slack, Felicity. You kept your balance much longer this time. You're getting the knack of it."

She glares at him and at his blatant exaggeration. Felicity never thought to find anything she was beyond terrible at besides cooking, but skiing turned out to be a strong contestant. She will never be able to master this skill. 

To tell the truth, she had done a little better the day before with the other teacher but it seems that going to sleep had erased all the progress she had made. Yet, how nervous the new instructor makes her could be a factor. Just like right now; Oliver reaches for her hand to help Felicity to stand and her stomach does a weird flip-flop.

Describing Oliver as a handsome man is an understatement. With that beautiful, masculine face and athletic body of his that is distinguishable even beneath the ski clothes, he could be a model. The group of girls that shamelessly follows him around is a stark sign of how attractive he is.

The flock of groupies only adds to Felicity’s embarrassment, having a considerable audience to her ineptitude. She can hear the group snickering at her.

Oddly enough, Oliver seems to be oblivious to his adoring entourage. It’s as if those women don’t exist for him. Instead, his sharp focus hasn't veered from her all morning.

Felicity has had a bit of poor luck in the love department, being the stereotypical awkward geek in high school who barely dated and, then, having a tragic love story during college. After that, it has been an occasional date here and there, nothing too serious in a long while. She’s been focused on her career. 

In truth, she's not used to men’s attention, much less that of someone as gorgeous as Oliver. This is what has her so jittery. His touch awakens things inside her, which leads her mind to go to places where his contact is intimate and loving, and far from the professional kind that it actually is.

_ Ugh! You need to get laid, Smoak! Or buy a dozen batteries. _

There's no doubt the sexual frustration she's feeling is turning her brain into mush.

At least, she's grateful for the frigid temperature right now. Her cheeks are already reddened because of it, so the way how embarrassment flushes her face for having such a lewd mind goes undetected.

“I fell a lot too when I first learned how to ski,” Oliver tells her as encouragement. 

Felicity doubts that. Nobody is this inept but her. Besides, she saw Oliver sliding down the mountain slope this morning before her lesson started and, considering the high level of his dexterity, she’d say he was born with an innate skill. If someone tells her he’s a professional athlete, she would believe it in a heartbeat.

“Be honest with me. How old were you when you learn how to ski… seven, eight years old?"

He looks at her sheepishly. "Less."

"What? Five?"

Oliver clears his throat. "Two."

Felicity groans. "Oh, great! My skill is worse than that of a baby still in diapers!" she stomps away from him and toward the hotel. "Forget it. I quit!"

"No, Felicity, wait!"

She ignores him and marches on with purpose, the snow being crushed under the weight of her boots. Oliver only takes a few seconds to catch up with her, bringing her discarded skis with him. He keeps his steps to her own with enviable ease. Meanwhile, Felicity wheezes, feeling as if with each of her steps she carries a ton of lead on her legs; Oliver walks as if he's taking a leisurely stroll on the beach.

_ Show off! _

"Skiing is hard, but you'd do better if you'd only relax and enjoy yourself," he says. "Nobody expects you to compete in the winter Olympics after only practicing a couple of hours a day for less than a week. You worry too much about getting it perfectly instead of having fun to learn something new. Don't quit now. I promise that before you go home you will go down the mountain on your skis."

Felicity stops in her tracks and rounds on him, tilting her face up to look at him. "Why would you waste time on me when I'm sure there are plenty of guests," she peeks at Oliver's entourage out of the corner of her eye, "who would be delighted to learn from you. Any of them will be much easier to teach."

Oliver gives a quick glance to the group and rolls his eyes. Felicity scowls at that. It's the first time that he acknowledges them and she expected a different reaction from him.

"Believe me, I'd rather be teaching a thousand of you than one of them. They…" he hesitates for a moment, his eyes darken with a dismal look in them, "...they just want a different kind of sliding. More personal and indoors. You, on the other hand, are actually trying to learn."

_ Not in my head. _

"Uh?"

_ Frak _! Her mouth-brain filter failed like so often it does. She deflects quickly, "So, you're saying that by letting you teach me, I'm doing you a favor… that I'm saving you from sexual harassment?"

"Yes. So, I'll do anything to keep you taking these classes with me."

His serious tone finally reaches her. "You don't want to deal with them, do you?"

"No, I really don't."

Before she can comment on that, a gorgeous, leggy-model-and-killer-body-type brunette interrupts them and speaks to Oliver, ignoring Felicity completely, "Hi, I'm Helena Bertinelli. I wish to take some ski lessons and I was told you're the best instructor in the resort. Could we start tomorrow? I'll be all by myself then, so I could use the distraction."

Felicity isn't sure what comes over her. She snaps when she hears such a shameless invitation from the woman, which makes Oliver's face to go expressionless and his eyes to sadden further.

"Sorry to disappoint you, miss Bertinelli, but Oliver is already taken. He has a long-term, exclusive engagement with me during my stay here." Felicity knows that she sounds as if she got a similar deal to what this woman is looking for but she doesn't care. As long as it works and drives her away, Felicity won't mind about the double meaning her words could take.

Helena acknowledges Felicity's presence, at last, looking up and down at her. As the heated once-over travels over Felicity, the corner of Helena's mouth twists into a sneer. "With you? My ears deceive me, then. I thought heard you yelling that you quit"

Felicity half-shrugs with an indifference that she doesn't feel. "I changed my mind."

"I'm sure any of the instructors in our staff will be pleased to help you, miss Bertinelli. You should book a place in one of their classes," Oliver interjects, playing the dumb to the offer.

"I'll do that," Helena says, raising her nose into the air in blatant arrogance. She starts walking away but pauses and puts her hand on Oliver's shoulder. She leans into his ear to whisper rather loudly, "If she quits again or leaves, don't hesitate to let me know. I'm in the cabin 26B."

And with that, the woman walks away, not before throwing a hateful glare at Felicity.

"Thanks for the save," Oliver says, beaming at Felicity once Helena is out of earshot.

_ Oh, wow! What a smile! _

It's obvious why so many women are chasing after him. With a single smile, Oliver is capable of quickening even a dead person's pulse. Felicity's heart is pounding at a thousand miles per hour. Yet, she feels bad for him. Does he really have to put up with such harassment all the time?

_ Poor guy. _

"You're most welcome, Oliver."

While they look at each other, something happens. That exciting tingling that Felicity has felt in her body all the time she has spent with Oliver this morning intensifies. It feels like an electric current going under her skin. An unforeseen force, like the attraction between two magnets, urges Felicity to get closer to him and it is almost impossible to resist.

And for an instant, Felicity is almost certain that he feels the same way. The air is charged with awareness. Oliver stares intently at her, lifting his hand as if he's going to thumb her lips. More than that: he wants to kiss her. _ She _ wants _ him _ to kiss her.

Their mutual attraction created an impenetrable bubble, insulating them from the world. 

_ Splat! _

The bubble bursts apart abruptly when a lost snowball hits Oliver on his shoulder, snowflakes raining on Felicity. Two kids dart past them, one of them yells, "Sorry, mister!" 

With her head reeling from the sudden return to reality, Felicity blinks and swallows hard. She can't help but avoid Oliver's eyes. 

After an uncomfortable pause, he says, "Come on, let's try again."

His words take her out of the daze, for a second believing that he means the kiss. In the next heartbeat, the crushing reality hits her. Oliver is with his hand outstretched, reaching out for her, and angling his body toward the ski run.

Disappointment leaves a bitter taste in her mouth, and the prospect of torture herself with more futile attempts to ski makes her feel worse.

"No, no. No more, Oliver."

A faint wrinkle appears on his forehead. "But you said…"

"I stand with what I promised. I'll be here for my lesson tomorrow, but right now, I'm beaten. All I want is to soak myself in a bathtub filled with steaming hot water. Maybe that way I'll be able to move tomorrow." 

There is no part in Felicity's body free from pain.

Oliver relaxes in a discernible degree and nods. "In that case, would you mind if I go with you?"

"T-To take a hot bath w-with me?" she stammers. 

The words had just left her mouth when she wanted to take them back. She closes her eyes, wishing for the earth to open beneath her feet and swallow her whole. She can't help but groan, waiting to die of embarrassment.

"You meant to go inside the hotel with me, did you? Of course, you did! Only I would think any different. Forget what I said, okay?"

Felicity opens an eye with reluctance, daring to peek at Oliver. She's mortified that he could think that she's like any other woman that goes after him. To her surprise, his face is pleasantly impassive. His expression is nothing like the one he had before when the Bertinelli woman interrupted them.

"I swear I wasn't making a pass at you, Oliver. I have no brain-to-mouth filter _ whatsoever _," she drawls the last word with heavy emphasis, "and most of the time I find the worst way to say things. My mouth is going to be the death of me. I—"

"Felicity, it's okay," he tries to soothe her, his fingers clasping her shoulder. "Seriously," he adds in response to her blazing expression; embarrassment is consuming her inside, her face feels hotter than ever in spite of the cold temperatures. His touch makes her melt inside, eliciting dirty thoughts that she attempts to crush in vain. 

"My memory sucks; I've already forgotten what you said." Genuine humor spreads across his face and reaches his eyes. "Let's return your skis, okay?" 

Taking Oliver's offer that grants her the way out of the pit of awkwardness she launched herself into, Felicity heads toward the stand where the resort's guests can rent skis if needed. As she walks beside Oliver, she gathers the courage to ask him something she's been wondering about. Considering the little she knows about him and how cool he was with her unintended innuendo, she's almost certain that he won't be offended.

"Hey, do you mind if I ask you something personal? You don't have to answer if you don't want to. You know what?" she interrupts Oliver before he has the opportunity to speak. At second thought, she chickens out; she has embarrassed herself enough for one day, "never mind." 

Oliver slows down and wraps his fingers around her elbow, making her stop. "What do you want to know?"

Felicity chews her lower lip as indecision courses through her.

"Nothing of what you say will shock me. I've heard it all, Felicity. Ask away." 

"It's nothing bad, just… I, um, I was wondering why would you put up with those women. I mean, couldn't you talk to your boss or something? It's obvious that you're uncomfortable with the situation." 

Honestly, anyone would.

Oliver snorts without humor. "Wish I could, but can't. My bosses would think I'm trying to escape my responsibilities." 

"You always can find another job, right?" 

"It's a little more complicated than that. In my youth, I was a wild kid, never worrying about the consequences of my actions. Some years ago, I went through a bad patch that made me see my mistakes and I decided to turn my life around. Keeping this job is proving my family that I've changed." 

"But finding a new job wouldn't show that you're still on track in your life?" 

"Not when your bosses and your parents are the ones and the same." 

Felicity takes a second to process that. Her eyes widen like a pair of saucers, realizing finally who her instructor is. "Oh, frak! You're a Queen!" she facepalms. "You're _ the _ Oliver Queen, snowboarding gold-medal-winner athlete and hardcore playboy, and this… this is one of your parents' resorts. One of the many, many they have." 

Felicity takes little interest in sports, so it's not a surprise that she didn't recognize him before. However, she does remember hearing the news around 3 years ago about him being involved in a serious car accident. He was so badly injured that he was unable to go to the 2018 Winter Olympics. Most likely, it was the event that made him change. 

"My reputation always precedes me," he mutters between his gritted teeth. 

Felicity places a hand on his arm, aware that she meddled in a touchy subject for him. "I'm sorry, Oliver. I shouldn't have asked. It's none of my business." 

"No, Felicity, don't be sorry. Actually, you're the only person besides my sister that has shown any concern about how I'm feeling. I appreciate it. It means a lot to me." 

Felicity gifts him a weak smile, still feeling bad for intruding into his private life. "Well, I never met you before, but I can tell you that I really like the person that you are. It's a loss for those who can't see you as the nice guy I have before me." 

Oliver averts his eyes as if he shrinks away from the compliment. Felicity thinks that as strange, because he, a famous athlete, should be used to be commended. Yet, he seems a little uncomfortable with her words. 

"And while I'm staying here," she continues, "you can count on me for when you need an excuse to get rid of the flock or an ear to hear your ranting. I know I talk a lot —more like… babble way too much, as you might've noticed— but I'm a good listener, too." 

"The flock?" he asks, his voice sounds like he is suppressing laughter. 

"Yeah, you know," Felicity tilts her head in the direction where the obnoxious women following Oliver lurk rather annoyingly, "they move like birds. One shift direction and the rest follow." 

A short, deep laugh rumbles out of Oliver. "Never thought it that way but it's an accurate description." 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 2. Enjoy, dearies!

As Oliver slows down his Escalade on the snowy driveway in front of his cabin, he thinks about today's events. That what it had started as an ordinary, monotonous day turned into an interesting morning. It never occurred to Oliver that a guest, which every other instructor in staff had categorically refused to teach again, leaving the unpleasant job to him, would brighten his day so much. 

There's no denying that Felicity Smoak was not born to slide down a mountain on skis. Yet something in her steadfast obstinacy to try was what had made Oliver persist in his teachings and not abandon her as the rest of the trainers have done. She is a clumsy person, but a cute one at that. 

If there's something that makes her a much more remarkable woman to him, though, it's her surprising ability to see him, really see him, beyond the public persona he plays every day. 

A lopsided smirk breaks out on his lips at the memory of how flustered Felicity became when she misunderstood his words, supposedly suggesting to join her for a hot bath. To the contrary to his usual reaction, the idea of having a fling with her, a resort's guest, didn't make his skin crawl. Quite the opposite. 

For the first time in a long time, Oliver felt scorching desire barbing his body. In the past, Felicity wouldn't have caught his eye, given that he used to prefer taking to bed women of extreme exuberance and beauty, or what he foolishly, shallowly, thought those things meant. Now, he knows better. 

That doesn't mean he thinks Felicity isn't pretty. Oh, goodness, no. She is absolutely gorgeous, but her beauty comes from more places that only her looks. Oliver barely knows her and, yet, he has the conviction of having found one of the gentlest souls on earth. There's something about her, a pure quality she possesses that lures him to come closer to her. 

It's that enticing peculiarity that incites Oliver to return to his old womanizer habit and flirt with this particular guest. Nonetheless, there's something different this time. He's not a one-night-stand kind of guy as he used to be.

Neither is he looking for meaningless hook-ups. If he ever gets involved with a woman again, it would be with the intention of having a lasting, fulfilling relationship. He wants— no, scratch that, he _ needs _ someone with who he could make a life together, not just have sex with.

So he won't act on his desire because he knows Felicity will be gone in a few days' time and, most likely, he won't see her ever again. He's grateful for the timely interruption those kids made when he was about to kiss her. It would have been a mistake. A mistake because he feels in his gut that he wouldn't have conformed himself with just one kiss. His attraction for Felicity is as strong as it is unexpected. 

The only thing he can do is enjoy her platonic company for whatever time her stay lasts. 

With that decision made, Oliver gets out of his car and strolls in the snowfall to the cabin's front door. As he enters his home, the heat of the fire on the hearth warms him while the scent of delicious home-made meal sneaks up his nostrils. He has the joyful greeting of his dog, Verdant; her tail wagging back and forth excitedly. Nonetheless, neither of those things makes him feel more at home than the echo of little steps thundering down the stairs. 

Oliver takes off his jacket, gloves, and scarf and hangs them off the perch by the door just in time to pivot around. Opening his arms, a sack of bones and flesh throws himself at his arm. 

"Daddy, you're home!" 

"Hey, kiddo." 

William, his 4-year-old boy, has been the main reason for Oliver to make himself a better man. He's not proud of how his son was conceived, in one of those endless nights of debauchery he used to indulge in, but he can't regret his existence. Oliver loves William more than life itself. 

Only the knowledge that William would be an orphan if he'd died gave Oliver strength to pull through after the accident. To endure the never-ending months of pain and rehabilitation while he recovered from the devastating injuries he sustained in the crash. It's because of his son that Oliver is alive right now. 

Oliver's blood chills every time he thinks that only because William, who was a year old back then, had a cold is the reason why he wasn't in the car the night that Oliver and Samantha crashed. Otherwise, he would be dead, just like his mother, Samantha, is. 

William squirms, whines, and giggles in Oliver's arms. "Daddy, you're crushing me! Can't breathe!" 

Reluctantly, Oliver relents his hug, at the same time that he puts the memories to the back of his mind, and eases his arms to a relaxed hold. "Sorry, buddy. I'm just happy to see you." 

Oliver walks toward and sits on the couch with William on his lap. Verdant, knowing that won't get his masters' attention for a while, goes away and lies down curled up in front of the fire.

William asks his father, "You missed me?" 

"I did, very much," Oliver nods solemnly. "Did you?"

Just as solemn, William says in his most serious tone. "Nope, not even a little."

Oliver gasps in fake hurt and narrows his eyes on his mischievous son as an amused voice calls from behind them, "It's not nice to lie to your father, William. Tell him how you waited for him by the window all day. Welcome home, mister Oliver" 

"Hi, Raisa."

"Raisa, I'm not really lying!" William objects, "Daddy knows I'm joking." 

Raisa chuckles as she returns to the kitchen, knowing that this is a typical greeting ritual between father and son. 

"A joke, huh?" Oliver puts his attention back to William, "You want to laugh, don't you? I'm going to make you laugh." 

William let out a screech of delight and dread in equal measure. He tries to escape but Oliver holds William and pushes him back against the couch. "No, daddy, no!" 

But Oliver becomes deaf to the plea and tickles his son mercilessly until William is wheezing with laughter. 

"Please, stop!" 

Oliver pauses his tickling attack just long enough to ask, "Did you or did you not miss me?" 

Oliver can guess the answer by William's devilish expression before he says it. His son is not tired of the tickling yet. Predictably, he says, "No." 

Only at the end of the second round of the tickling attack, William confesses how much he missed Oliver. 

"Snacks will be ready in 10 minutes," Raisa shouts from the kitchen. 

"Come on, kiddo. Let's wash our hands." 

Grabbing William by the ankles and carrying him upside down to the delight of his kid, Oliver goes to the bathroom and helps William to freshen himself up. Once his face and hands are clean, his son runs ahead of him, while Oliver walks in a more sedated pace. His sat phone buzzes with an alert, so he draws it out from his pocket. 

"Oh, jeez!" he mutters as he walks into the dining room. 

"Something's wrong, mister Oliver?" 

"There was an avalanche and blocked about a mile long of the road. We'll be stuck here for a few days." 

Oliver's cabin is located at the top of a hill and has just a good access by car. The danger of being uncommunicated like now is the only drawback of the place; but the peace and privacy one can found there, the splendid views, and the endless space for outdoor activities turn the scale in favor of living in that cozy cabin. 

Another vital advantage of living out here is that Oliver can keep William away from the mayhem the resort can be. His family, especially his mother, didn't like this arrangement, but Oliver put his foot down. He wants to raise William in a normal environment. Oliver wants to be a better father than Oliver's parents were to him.

Lack of love never was the problem. Oliver knows that his mom and dad love him dearly but, in the retrospective, he wishes that his parents had put him more limits when he was a child, to teach him that having money didn't mean to be the king of the world. Perhaps that way, Oliver wouldn't have made so many mistakes. Maybe his life would be different.

"Thank God you were home already." 

That's not a coincidence. The avalanche warnings were at their highest level this morning and when started snowing heavily after midday, Oliver decided to come home early. He knows there are enough provisions in the house to hold up for weeks and Raisa is more than capable of taking care of William if he's not there but, if he hadn't come home when he did, he'd have gone crazy thinking about them, fearing for their safety. What if something happened and he was unable to help them, to reach them in time? 

"You don't have to work, daddy?" 

Oliver sits at the table to the left of William and across Raisa. "Until the snowplows clear the road, no, I don't have to go to work." 

"Yay!! So we can go down the pond to skate and go sledding down the hill…" William hesitates as pure eagerness colors his face, "...and... and you can teach me that trick on the board," William looks at Oliver imploringly, "You promised me that you'd teach me." 

"I did and I will, yes." 

Oliver smiles watching the enthusiasm glowing brightly in William's face. As a single parent, Oliver doesn't spend as much time as he would like with his son. That's why in moments like this he takes full advantage of them to have quality time with his boy. 

However, quality time will have to wait, apparently. Oliver's phone buzzes again, this time with the distinct ringtone he set for John Diggle, a supervisor of the local SAR team. During the last year, Oliver has been part of one of their squads. Who else could be more perfect for looking missing people than him, who grew up exploring these mountains since he was born? 

"Excuse me," Oliver says, standing up and walking out of the room. He swipes his finger across the phone's screen to answer, "Hey, John. What's up?" 

"Tell me you're at home?"

"I am," Oliver frowns, mystified by the question. 

The first thought that crosses Oliver's mind is that John is calling to check if Oliver wasn't on the road when the avalanche happened. But that can't be it. He and Diggle are friends, but this would be the first time that John calls him because of that reason. It has to be something else; probably that he's needed for a search and rescue mission. Oliver wasn't on the road, but anyone else could have been. 

"Why?" 

"They call from your parents' resort, reporting a missing guest." 

"Oh, shit!" 

"The woman went for a snow bike ride the last time she was seen. They checked the GPS tracker on the bike and a search party was being assembled, but they didn't get to her in time before the cornice gave out. Apparently, the snowmobile is six miles west from the avalanche site." 

That means she's on Oliver's side of the avalanche, and around the same distance from his house. Also, it's a good piece of news; chances are that she isn't buried underneath a ton of snow and debris. 

Diggle continues by explaining, "But, according to the records, the bike hasn't moved from that spot in the last hour." 

There are many reasons for that and none of them are good. If the person is smart, she should have stayed put by the bike, making for others easy to locate her. Otherwise, if she attempted to return to the resort on foot it will be like finding a needle in a haystack. And the risk that she walked right into the danger zone goes up. 

"Has the chopper done a visual sweep?" 

"Not can do. The storm is bad and it is getting worse. By the time the guys go up there on foot, it's going to be dark. The only hope she got is you. Temperature is going to drop drastically tonight and she's not prepared for that." 

By now, Oliver is climbing the stairs, two steps at the time, to get his gear. The clock is ticking. 

"I'll find her, Digg." 

"I know you will. You're my best guy." 

"You got her description?" 

"Female; age 23; 5'5 and around 100 pounds; blonde hair. She is wearing a fuschia coat." 

At least, one thing goes in Oliver's favor. That color should be easy to spot against the snow. 

"What's her name?" 

"Felicity Smoak." 

Oliver misses a step, hearing the name, but regains balance almost immediately. His sense of urgency triples. 

"I'll find her," he vows, this time more to himself than to Diggle. 

When Oliver returns downstairs, all geared up and ready to leave, Raisa is waiting for him by the foot of the stairs. Her face is clouded with worry, mirroring Oliver's own feelings. Of course, her concern is more for him than for what she knows as a faceless victim. 

"Please, could you gather a couple of spare blankets and look for the space heater that it's in my workshop?" 

Most likely, when Oliver finds Felicity, she could present some degree of hypothermia for being at the mercy of harsher weather. Warm her up as soon as they get back here will be essential. 

"Yes, of course." 

"Someone got lost?" William asks from his seat at the table, his face holds a serious expression. William is familiar with Oliver's rescue gear and he also knows that, when his dad grabs it, it is because someone is in trouble. "You're going to find them with Verdant's help, right?" 

"Yes, I am. You be a good boy and do what Raisa tells you, okay?" 

William nods, "Always do, daddy." 

"Be careful out there, mister Oliver." 

"Always am," Oliver says. 

For an instant, the similarity between his and William's replies brings a tiny smirk to his face. Both are answering to a parental figure in a similar fashion. Except but one way, Raisa is a mother to Oliver; she practically raised him and Thea since they were small children. 

The moment passes a fraction of a second later as Oliver remembers that he has a duty to fulfill. There's a life in danger. Heading to the front door, he calls out for Verdant. 

"Come on, girl. We have work to do." 

The dog follows him outside obediently and jumps to the back of the Escalade as soon as Oliver opens the door for her. Oliver rounds the vehicle and gets in on the driver's seat before driving away. He debated with himself to search for Felicity on foot, starting from his house but he doesn't know what health state Felicity is. She could be able to walk on her own or she might be injured. In the latter case, he'll need the transportation. 

He pulls over on the road as close as he can from the point where the snowmobile is supposed to be. It's a good starting place to look. He wishes that Felicity hasn't wandered around, that she's safe and sound. Following the coordinates John gave him, Oliver goes down the hill, Verdant is right next to him. Sure enough, about 800 yards down, Oliver catches the first glimpse of the snow bike. 

He breaks forward in a sprint as he yells, "Felicity! Felicity Smoak!" 

The only answer he gets is the wind, howling loudly. The snowstorm is getting stronger by the minute, and Oliver's visibility is seriously compromised. He cannot see beyond 15 feet away, and the distance is shortening with every tick of the clock. A few more quick steps and Oliver reaches the abandoned bike; Felicity is nowhere to be found. 

"Felicity!" he yells again in vain. She's not there. 

Frustration mixes with his worry. The snowfall has erased any trace he could follow. The prints Felicity made as she walked away from there are long gone. In plain sight, he's unable to guess in what direction she went. 

Taking a quick glance at the snowmobile, Oliver knows why Felicity left it behind. The engine is exposed as if it had suffered a malfunction and Felicity tried to repair it. Obviously, she was unsuccessful. 

Supposing that Felicity tried to fix the engine for some time before giving up, Oliver calculates how much terrain she can have covered by now on foot. She has more than an hour ahead of him. He could pick any random path to search for her but he might walk in the opposite direction where he should be looking. 

This is where Verdant's tracking innate skill comes in. He urges his dog to pick up Felicity's scent, which is all over the snowmobile. With a command, he let her loose so Verdant follow the trail. Oliver jogs for a few minutes behind his dog as she heads southeast. Verdant guides Oliver to a grove of pines, where she speeds up, leaving Oliver behind. He doesn't worry about losing sight of her. He knows this is good news; Verdant just picked up a stronger trail of Felicity's scent, which means she's close. 

Oliver calls her name repeatedly in the hope Felicity will respond. He gets nothing. 

His heart makes a big leap when Verdant barks at the distance. The dog found something. Oliver breaks into a run, following the noise and bypassing the trees, frozen and heavy with fresh snow on their bare branches. 

First, he catches Verdant's black fur, then his eyes fall on the heap of strident pink sagged against the trunk of a pine. 

"FELICITY!" 

He runs to her and crouches in front of her and takes her face between his gloved hands. "Felicity, can you hear me?" 

She's unresponsive, pale, and cold, but alive. "Come on, beautiful. Wake up." 

Felicity mutters something unintelligible and it's a relief for Oliver. "I'm taking you out of here, okay. You're safe now." 

Oliver draws a thermal blanket from his pack, which, to the contrary popular belief, won't warm Felicity up. Simply, it will prevent her from losing more body heat and protect her from the biting wind. He wraps the thin material around her tightly. 

"I— I'm c-c-cold," Felicity says, her teeth clashing together as she shivers violently.

"I know."

Finally, she opens her eyes, her brow furrows. "O-O-Oliver, is t-t-that you?"

"Hey," he smiles at her. It's a relief seeing her become more alert. It's a good sign, yet, he needs to get her to safety fast. "Can you stand?"

She shakes her head no. "My ank-kle…"

"You sprained your ankle?"

"Think so."

Well, that complicates things. The walk to Oliver's car is going to be difficult for her. The only solution is Oliver to carry Felicity. 

He doesn't even think about checking her ankle here. It's pointless because that's not a life-threatening injury. Besides, to check her ankle he has to remove her boot, which would make her lose heat through the exposed limb. That's unacceptable.

"Okay, no walking for you." Oliver thinks about how to accomplish the return walk. He hung his backpack on his shoulders and squats before her again. "Can you wrap your arms around my neck? I'll carry you."

Felicity blinks as if she has trouble understanding his words. He grabs one of her arms and crooks it around his neck and hoists her in his arms. 

"Hold to me tight, Felicity."

"I imagined you saying t-that in d-different circ-c-cunstances."

Oliver looks down at her. Is she implying what he thinks she's implying? Delirious talk, no doubt. 

Some color returns to Felicity's cheeks as she stutters, "V-very platonic… circ-cumstances."

Maybe she's not that delirious, after all. Before Oliver lets his mind wander to the circumstances when he could say that sentence again, carrying a different, more passionate meaning, Felicity's body is racked with intense shakes.

"I've got you," Oliver says as he holds Felicity tighter against his body and starts forward with steady, confident strides, backtracking his steps to his car.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos, comments, and bookmarks are greatly appreciated!
> 
> You can also find me on Tumblr as **[@green-arrows-of-karamel](www.green-arrows-of-karamel.tumblr.com)**


End file.
